I open my eyes and I see you
by TFALokiwriter
Summary: "If you rather have a long and natural life, DO NOT LET HER OPEN HER EYES!"
1. Open

2275, McCoy finally retired from Star Fleet. He was getting too old for this shit. He was sitting on his porch on a rocking chair relaxing in Georgia, Atlanta. It was a well warm day with cool air brushing against the side of his face. Amanda and Sarek were raising a Romulan/Vulcan hybrid by the name Saavik. They had picked her up from a rescue mission sent to liberate the colony near the neutral zone regarding Romulans and Vulcans. It wasn't a pretty sight to see. Spock left active duty for a year to take care of the little girl. Jim took a lot of personal time off in the first year without Spock. McCoy was promoted to Commander. Having to take care of Jim 24/7 was a lot like taking care of a child. But it was his cup of tea. Spock returned to the Enterprise the next year with Saavik in the care of his parents.

 _It was a logical arrangement_ , Spock had explained, _as I cannot raise a child in space_.

The rocking chair went back and forth.

There were days when he looked back at his work as a medical officer.

His family of choice was up there in space in their separate ways.

Things had to change from where they were heading before McCoy left. He had not forgotten looking into the crystal ball of the psychic to see his future. It disturbed him. He preferred not to think about it. Not being able to save Jim or Spock, which was in the crystal ball, completely helpless and watching them die before his eyes. No, no, no, he should never think of that. If he wasn't there, then someone else would save them and they would come back as a whole. Alive, but shaken up. That was it, they would be alive, and he didn't need to worry about it. He preferred to remember the days where he pried into the Vulcan. To prove that he was indeed emotional. Not emotional his ass! The Vulcan practically fought back laughter before the doctors eyes. He couldn't blame him for doing that when the ocassions called for laughter. He preferred to remember the heart eyes that Jim made when he saw Spock. The soft, tender captain with the Vulcan controlling his emotions and denying that he had any at all. He had not forgotten how much the two had become family as had the command crew.

Nyota, the aunt.

Pavel, the little brother.

Hikaru, that family member interested in plants.

Scotty, the uncle who got drunk.

Jim and Spock, just Jim and Spock.

He would recall their away missions.

Fondly, however. Good stories to tell the grandchildren or his other young relatives at the McCoy reunions. His twin sister, Donna, had adopted a Romulan child with special needs last month. Didn't matter what they looked like, all it mattered was that they were a McCoy, and McCoy's took care of each other. How would McCoy refer to himself to the adopted children and to the non-adopted children? There was only two ways to start off. A doctor. A life saver. Not a saint, not a brick layer, not a weather man, not a psychic, not a medium, not a escalator, not a boa constructor, not a zookeeper, not a nun, not a biologist, not a mechanic, not a lawyer, not a psychiatrist, not a bartender, a priest, a soldier, a police officer, a cowboy, a viking, a actor, or a general. He did miss the days where he saved the lives of others but he still saved some lives in his current occupation. He was taking a break from his activities as a rogue doctor. It was his mini vacation. A air-car parked along the path to the house. McCoy raised his hat up leaning forward to see who was visiting. The car doors opened to reveal Joanna and Jim step out of both sides. Jim was the first to close the door with the familiar, beaming smile.

"Hey pa!" Joanna said.

"Jo!" McCoy said, getting off the porch. "How is my pumpkin doin'?"

"Meh," Joanna said. The two came into a warm, tender hug. She had brown hair that had unusual bangs. Well, it sort of did look that way. She had thick eyebrows that were the exact same shape as her father but darker. She had hazel eyes instead of his light blue eyes. The hug ended as they broke apart. Joanna gasped at the beard. "Ya grew a beard."

"Like it?" McCoy asked.

"No," Joanna said, with a shake of her head. "it makes you look ninety."

"Hey!" McCoy said. "I take offense to that."

"And nothin' has changed about ya," Joanna said.

"Jim," McCoy said, as a smile grew on his face. "Nice to see you again." the doctor noticed the man had on star fleet uniform unlike his daughter. His eyes darted back to Joanna then to Jim noticing that the man still had the captains rank. His eyes went to the man's face noticing that it was grim. "Ya are not here for a visit."

"There is a problem, Bones," Jim said.

"I made a problem," Joanna said.

"No, no, no," McCoy said. "now don't tell me that you made somethin' that not even the best and brightest minds can fix." Joanna and Jim shared a glance. "And where is Spock?" his thinning eyebrows raised up at once. The two shared a long, hard look together. "He is always with you, Jim."

"It's about Spock," Joanna said. "he . . I. . ."

"You need to sit down for this," Jim said, smoothly while he had one hand on the woman's shoulder.

"You will have to," Joanna said.

"Well, that is fishy," McCoy said. "come on in."

The three went into the house. McCoy locked the door behind him as the two came to the table. His daughter did something. She was likely-no, she couldn't. She couldn't lose her career at this age. He shook his head with a sigh. All those days in space had been a living trap for death. Jim and Spock were going to stay in space for the rest of their natural lives, McCoy accepted that a long time ago. He could not always run to their rescue. Not like how they did when it came to him being threatened or hurt. They belonged in space while McCoy did not. He was like the moon to their orbit. Spock was the earth. Jim was the sun. And McCoy was their moon.

The three sat around the table.

"What's the report?" McCoy asked.

"The Enterprise was on her third five year mission under Captain Decker. Mr Spock was visiting to check on Joanna when her mission came up. He opted to join her," Jim explained. "They came across a unusual species. Small, blue child like creatures that preyed off each other. Meat eaters." McCoy nodded. "The natives of the home planet called them the blue devils. There was a beryllium sphere that the federation wanted to test as another way of warp travel in case the dilithium did not pan out."

"The natives turned against us after I started showing signs of the cold," Joanna said. "I tried to explain that we could cure it but they had none of it," she cleared her throat. "Mr Spock explained to them that humans were not aware in advance of catching diseases and it was not my fault."

"Was it?" McCoy asked.

"Apparently, they can die from the common cold," Joanna said.

"Unfortunately, Captain Decker was not there to agree with the captain," Jim said. "Mr Spock ordered a evacuation of the site as soon as they had finished the meeting," Joanna briefly closed her eyes. "Not all of them were able to be evacuated due to the natives posing an attack."

"They have Mr Spock," Joanna said. "He sent me. He sent me back. Instead of himself."

'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one' McCoy thought back to the phrase.

"Ad why come here?" McCoy asked. "I have no idea what they are."

"Mr Spock has informed me of several things you can do, which theoretically, can eliminate the problem," Jim said. "and he said that you were the best doctor to ask for in order to save their lives."

"And I agreed," Joanna said. McCoy's jaw went slack.

"He volunteered me without askin'," McCoy said. "how typical." He folded his arms leaning away from the table against the chair.

"We need you, Bones," Jim said. "I need you."

"So do I," Joanna said. McCoy sighed.

"There is goin' to be a hostage exchange," McCoy said. "and every single one of those patients are going back to the Enterprise, ya hear?"

"We are avoiding sending them to sick bay," Jim said. "they are not exactly. . ."

"Open minded enough," Joanna finished.

"For gods sake, you are talkin' like we would be doin' what the Kabliarans did to humanity for hundreds of years," McCoy said.

Joanna rubbed the back of her neck with a sheepish smile leaning back into the chair.

"You need to bring sick bay to them," Joanna said. "pa, ya have the most steadiest hands in the galaxy," McCoy had a small smile at his daughter's sincere thought that he still had the most steady hands in the galaxy. He was starting to lose that, as he had discovered, in his days as a rogue aging doctor in space. "and I concur with Mr Spock's decision to recommend with you."

"Ah pumpkin," McCoy said. "ya are spoilin' me rotten."

"Ya tried to spoil me rotten," Joanna said. "my turn now."

"Think I can bring nurses with me?" McCoy asked, looking over toward Jim.

"They only want you," Jim said.

"Damn," McCoy said. "Spock should have mentioned Christine at least."

Joanna and Jim shared a smile looking toward each other then back in McCoy's direction.

"The Stallion is waiting in orbit," Jim said.

"You are commandin' the one nacelle ship?" McCoy said.

"It's a great ship," Jim said.

"You have not changed a bit," McCoy groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"It may be old, but she has some milage on her," Joanna said. "she is a historical piece."

"Goes as fast as the Enterprise," Jim said.

"Historical piece," McCoy said. "Jim, Star Fleet doesn't let historical pieces go from the ship junk yard."

"I stole her," Jim said.

"Star Fleet doesn't want to interfere," Joanna said.

"They have yet to reach warp drive," Jim said. "highly risky." His hands were on the table in a fist, placed together. "I didn't want to lie to Decker so I told him that I was going to do just as they said. Not interfere."

"Loosely," Joanna said. "I am suspended."

McCoy put his head on the table.

"You are killin' me," McCoy said.

* * *

Family stuck together, that is what McCoy learned in his years in space. You don't underestimate them when it comes to one of their own. Nor do you piss off Captain Kirk by telling him that he could not go after his bondmate. Or say that there was no other way of saving the entire species that had been contaminated and "oh, well, too bad, the potential warp fuel is not reliable." It would seem that it was all in vain. McCoy has known space for over twenty years. He knows one thing for certain. Never try to say 'you can't do that' to the legendary crew in star fleet. Because they will turn around and actually do it.

McCoy felt like it could be the last away mission.

He had a obligation as a doctor, not a star fleet one, to help those who needed it.

He had to save lives not take them.

"Welcome aboard, Doctor!" Scotty said. "it feels homely."

"They actually restored it," McCoy looked around in awe coming out of the shuttle. He stepped down the stairs with his hands on the rail with widened circular eyes. "reminds me of the first NX Enterprise."

"It is a hundred years old," Scotty said. "made right around the same time as Archer's Enterprise."

"She is a beauty," Jim agreed, coming after the doctor into the small shuttle bay with Joanna behind him.

"How did ya steal her anyway?" McCoy asked.

"Bones, I am a Fleet Captain," Jim said. "People don't ask when they see my name."

"Perfect cover," Joanna said. "until Nogura and his assistant Lori starts asking."

"Ah, Jo," Jim said. "Lori is not his assistant."

"Oh?" Joanna asked. "Then what is she?" she raised an arched eyebrow.

"She is a vice admiral, and her name is Lori Ciana," Jim said. "a Xeno-psychologist."

"Ya mean to tell me Star Fleet Command has the woman to challenge a Klingon and survive it . . . is in charge of relationships with non humans?" McCoy asked, slack jawed.

"Yes," Jim said. McCoy lifted his jaw back up. "I like Lori but I can't follow through with her warnings regarding the natives."

"Sweet lady," Scotty said.

"Jim, ya would have made a terrible adult in the 21st century when it came to warning signs," McCoy said. "warnin's are made for a reason, damn it!" McCoy went past the three men heading toward the doorway. "now there better be up to date equipment in my sick bay."

"All the latest," Joanna said. "do ya need help, pa?"

"I can find my way around!" the doors closed behind the man. Joanna turned her head toward Jim.

"Go help your father," Jim said.

"He can get lost, easily," Scotty said. "so many . . . well. . this is a refit."

The scene panned back as Joanna followed after McCoy to reveal the USS Stallion in space. It was a unique sight to see that was a bit odd and unusual. The refit USS Stallion had the saucer section attached to the nacelle with the addition of a lower part added. It was like a mix between a NX Class and the beginnings of the constitution class. The designing process of the constitution class started from there. Against the tarp of space with stars acting as the background with starbase one in the distance it was a sight to have seen.

* * *

The iconic engineering that he was most familiar to grew its beginnings from this NX starship. He remembered coming here with Jim and Spock when the engines stopped working. Almost every week. The flat screens with blue text and diagrams leading to the new system floating around in star fleet called LCARS. It was a graduation into the making of the constitution class. McCoy noted there was not a turbo lift in sight going through the dark hallway with lights seen here and there. The turbo lifts here were dark gray with panels that had letters representing which deck to go. McCoy stood there, confused, but otherwise he noted the levelers around the turbo lift that were a darker shade of gray lacking a comn terminal right at the side.

It was a reminder.

A blend of past and future. McCoy could visualize the eighty-three humans walking through the halls, T'Pol, among them alongside Tucker. Is that what the Enterprise would become? A historical relic with ghosts that never left its halls? Where their golden prime could be visualized. Haunting its corridors like any given day exploring space. In his golden era, that, McCoy would want to be remembered by. He walked past the turbo lift noticing the rounded windows with his hands locked behind his back. Every day people spent their lives on this ship. And made history establishing star fleet. The diplomatic era. They were in the exploration era. McCoy admired the physicians who served in this era dealing with the phaser pistols. The death and dying due to phaser pistol shots on star fleet officers and how deadly they were.

It was a miracle they were here.

"Pa!"

McCoy turned in the direction that his daughters voice was coming from.

"Yes, pumpkin?" McCoy asked.

"Ya goin' the wrong way," Joanna said, coming to his side. "It is this way," she gestured down toward another corridor. "I had to study the map."

"Jo," McCoy said. "why didn't ya request sick leave?"

"I thought it wasn't going to jeopardize my away mission and I wasn't going to be around the natives," Joanna said, as they walked side by side. "a mistake."

"A mistake that might end your medical career," McCoy said. ". . . honey, I am not always goin' to be there to fix your messes."

"I know," Joanna said. "but you made your fair share."

"I follow medical rules and I didn't make a mistake like that," McCoy replied. "now the colony I failed to save does not count. That was not a mistake. I was only doin' my duty."

"So was I," Joanna said.

"Now please tell me that Spock and Jim visitin' didn't make you push your limits," McCoy said.

"They had nothin' to do with it, pa," Joanna said. "I won't make that same mistake again."

"Ya better not!" McCoy said. His eyes glared at her direction. "Wanting to impress my colleagues won't do you any good."

"You never had to impress anyone's friends," Joanna said, earning a laugh from McCoy. She looked at him oddly as he continued to laugh. They stopped where he had slapped his knee roaring in laughter until he regained his composure.

"Sweetie," McCoy said. "ya don't know the half of the story when it came to datin' your mother," he shook his head growing embarrassed by the thought. "Her friends were legal legends in their prime when we met. I didn't end up doin' what ya did but I stressed myself over gettin' _their_ approval."

Joanna relaxed, folding her arms with a bemused expression.

"Ma's friends were not legends," Joanna said.

"In my day they were," McCoy said.

"Then why have I not heard of them?" Joanna asked.

"They had an affair with a Andorian poly marriage," McCoy paused. "with all four members."

"Holy shit," Joanna said. "ALL FOUR?"

"That is why there is four Vulcan/Andorian merchants runnin' around causin' mayhem," McCoy said. "opted not to abort them because they wanted to see how a Vulcan/Andorian person would be like, scientifically, and internally, until the age of twenty," McCoy paused looking over. "I heard they are supposed to come back for further analysis, cuff or no cuffs, of how well they have being telepathic their entire body and hearin' others thoughts."

"No wonder they instigate mayhem," Joanna said. "they want everyone to feel what they feel."

"Pretty reasonable givin' people who gave ya life," McCoy said. "those lawyers have to defend their children these days."

"Pa," Joanna said. "I am glad ya didn't start a life changin' marriage with Andorians."

"Actually," McCoy held his two fingers up. "I was this close to bein' roped in by Andorians to their marriage at one point," his fingers were close together. "two months ago, at least, but . . . given their trek of interest. . .Romulan Xeno-archeology," he lowered his hand. "it would not end well," he shook his head. "I had to decline," he looked his daughter in the end. "ya better be sure ya know what ya doin' if ya come an inch close to marryin' Andorians."

"I will, pa," Joanna said. "I will only get married to someone I care and love really much. Someone of a species I am certain to be livin' with every day of my life." McCoy smiled at his daughter feeling proud of her.

"That is my pumpkin," McCoy said. "who are ya datin'?"

"I am not datin' anyone," Joanna said. "I am not ready for a relationship, yet."

"Ya graduated in 2269 from star fleet academy," McCoy said. "that does not mean ya did not have ya fair share of bad relationships."

Joanna's cheeks glowed pink.

"They weren't bad," Joanna said.

"Ya could have sent messages and told me the truth of what ya were feelin' after a bad break up," McCoy said.

"I have been fine," Joanna said.

"Hey, that is your mothers line!" McCoy told her. "And ya not fine. I am always here to listen wherever you need me, I will be there, let it be in spirit, inanimate objects, holo-vid," he shook his index finger as she tried to protest. "my little pumpkin can't keep it all inside."

"I am not a little girl anymore," Joanna reminded McCoy

"Ya cried three days after scraping ya' knee," McCoy said. "and I cried with you."

"That is because I remembered it," Joanna said.

"Nah," McCoy said. "Jocelyn was not there." he frowned. "You are not your mother nor are you a machine. You are human and . . . medically?" the doctor paused, looking at his daughter in empathy, like he understood. "You have to cry to get the bad chemicals out that makes you feel this way. It is medically recommended to cry, sweetie."

The pair went into a turbo lift. Joanna lifted the levelers then said the deck that they were leading to. The doors closed. Then the turbo lift started to move. She pressed a button stopping the turbolift earning a raised eyebrow from her father. It was just them in one circular room. She had a dark look in her face. It looked like she hadn't been up for days.

"They say I am . . . clingy," Joanna's voice broke at the last part.

McCoy placed a hand on Joanna's shoulder looking back at her kindly seeing the tears forming on the edges of her eyes.

"Tell me all about how wron' they are," McCoy said.

* * *

McCoy leaned back into the chair once he had finished research regarding the civilization.

They were the Keerg.

There were other portions of this civilization, rumored to be under ground, driven to the under ground due to the beasts that lurked on the surface. They were twice the size of average humans. There were hot, humid lava like portions of the planet. Half of the planet was engulfed into water. The ground provided refuge. It was a miracle that they hadn't been killed all ready by the rock monsters. The planet was around the size of Vulcan. They were said to be fierce, frightening and barbaric beasts with four arms and four eyebrows that didn't stop and listen to what people had to say. McCoy rubbed the side of his temple with a groan looking up toward the ceiling. They were quick to be enraged. They didn't like being lied to. Their women stayed out of the way and walked slowly to the fast paced, strong men. It felt like the women of the Keerg were easy to die off by a alien disease due to their vulnerable condition. Women were also the ones who tended to the home life of the men ranging from taking care of the home, laundry, food, and so on.

McCoy was not entirely sure that Spock was quite aware regarding the civilization's culture. The mention of guns were even more alarming to the doctor. But he was sure that the Vulcan had to be aware by now. He signed what was left of McCoy's active service as a doctor. Something that McCoy would gladly do. Because if it didn't work immediately, then they will kill him. McCoy was sure the medication that he had gathered would do a world of work. Several cough drops, some pills for various kinds of colds that could work to cure them, and it would take roughly one to two weeks for the recovery to begin. And he could be dead by then. He was the luckiest man in the world to have been around bright, intelligent, and optimistic people full of hope. Those who bore no grudges.

He would miss that, the most, about being alive.

Meeting people like Jim.

But Pavel had been ignoring him since he stepped aboard.

There were some unresolved tension between the two men now that he thought of it.

"What did I do to earn this hell?" McCoy asked himself.

The doors whooshed open to let in a familiar figure. There she was, Nyota Uhura, in all her glory and well aged demeanor. McCoy stood up sensing her arrival. She was like a charming woman when she wanted to. She could be a very good diplomat if she had went into the diplomatic corps if she wanted to. She was the master of arriving. At least in McCoy's opinion because she always had the right way of making her arrival. She was in her star fleet uniform and it looked splendid on her figure. She had her beautiful, curly black hair in a afro kind of hair style. She wore a new kind of earrings that looked strange and unusual but at once gorgeous on her. She was wearing eyeliner that highlighted her face. Her beauty quite spell binding and marvelous at the same time.

"It is good to see you again, Leonard," Nyota said, as he joined her in the living room.

"Same to you, Nyota," McCoy said. "what bring's ya here?"

"I wanted to see how you are doing," Nyota said. "given this is a high risk mission."

"I have been better, hun," McCoy said. "need a drink?" he opened a drawer and took out a glass.

"Sorry," Nyota said. "not here for drinking."

"Suit ya'self," McCoy poured a glass. "I can't believe they left bourbon here for a hundred years."

"I am concerned about you," Nyota said.

"Ny," McCoy said. "I am fine."

"You haven't sent me a message in months," Nyota said. McCoy took a sip.

"I have been busy," McCoy reminded her.

"Too busy to remind people that you were still alive?" Nyota said. "Jim told me that you were at home in Georgia."

"Atlanta is a good restin' stop," McCoy said.

"Leonard," Nyota said, giving him a incredulous expression.

"Fine," McCoy said. "I needed a break . . ."

"You could have told me that before you dropped off the face of the quadrant," Nyota said.

"I needed a break from worrin' about y'all," McCoy said.

Nyota paused, deeply considering.

"Is that. . . all?" Nyota asked. "Your line of work is based off worrying over people."

"Someone else has to worry about you," McCoy said. "I am sure T'Prin' worry about you."

"Not all the time," Nyota said, pouring herself a glass.

"Ya go in and defuse Klingon disputes like a pro, Ny," McCoy said. "you are walkin' on landmines that ya expect to count to zero and nothin' come out of it," he gestured toward her. "ya like Jim except. . . better."

"I am not better than him," Nyota protested. "no one can be better than a man of our time."

"Ya don't get ya uniform torn on every away mission now do ya?" McCoy cocked a eyebrow up.

"Point taken," Nyota said, as they both took a drink from their cups.

"How has T'Prin' been?" McCoy asked.

"Good," Nyota said. "she has been collaborating with a Romulan Defector for a edible chocolate flower cup."

McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?" McCoy asked.

"Pretty much," Nyota said. "she is determined."

"Like Spock," McCoy said.

"Just like Spock," Nyota agreed. McCoy and Nyota started laughing a few seconds later. Nyota wiped a tear off as McCoy lowered the glass to the table. Because it appeared that the good, old fashioned country doctor was right. Their laughter slowly died. The two colleagues wiped their tears off. "I am concerned about Jim," Nyota finally added. "he has been unraveling."

"How so?" McCoy asked.

"I never seen him so anxious in ten years," Nyota said.

"Not surprised when it comes to Spock," McCoy said. He took another sip of his drink. "there will be a instance where I cannot help y'all," he studied her. "I want ya to do me a favor."

"Anything," Nyota said.

"You are goin' to be near him in space so I would like you to be hard on him if he makes a move that risks his own life if he doesn't have Spock," McCoy said. "I would recommend calling him by his full name to make it even more of a slap to the face and a concerned third party but. . ." Nyota took a sip of the drink. "that would be more suitable for George."

"Where are they, anyway?" Nyota asked.

"Enjoying their retirement somewhere," McCoy shrugged. He took another sip. "just like me after this final mission."

* * *

It would take two days to get to the Keerg's home planet. McCoy had packed what he had needed for the trip to and from the planet. He had a assistant who would pick him up back at home once he returned to continue his work as a rogue doctor. Often times, he would cross Scotty and give him some Romulan Ale that he had gained because of Romulans feeling in debt to the man. It wasn't his idea but more of the Romulan's insistence. So hiding the Romulan ale in every crack possible in the ship was a constant concern and challenge. Romulan Ale was still illegal in the federation. There were ports who searched the ship for it. It was a fun challenge that made the adrenaline go.

"Jim, how are-" McCoy caught up with the younger men down the hall.

"I am fine, Bones," Jim said, earning a frown from the doctor.

"The hell ya are!" McCoy said. "Ya lucky it ain't a toxic, poisonous planet with scorpions that make suits pop. Or the inhabitants bein' bugs that can impregnate a living bein' with a sting and grow their larvae within twenty-four hours cocooned in lon', silver webbing excreted from the ski-"

"Bones, you do realize that only happened in SG-1," Jim said. "That's fictional." "

McCoy rolled an eye.

" _That's fictional_ ," McCoy mocked, repeating what the fleet captain had said using air quotes. "Ya know I can say that a lot about our away missions in the first five year mission in deep space. Our missions sound fictional like someone was high on LSD writin' it."

"LDS is a leading drug used to relax the brain," Jim said. "and no one can write missions like _that_ under it."

McCoy sighed.

"Jim, you are the most dyslexic man I know," the doctor acknowledged. "and you are graspin' luck that we may not have for this away mission," McCoy stepped in front of him. "Tell me, Jim, are ya just feelin' guilty that ya didn't go with Joanna and Spock?" the doctor folded his arms. "Because he would have done it anyway with ya. And ya would have agreed."

"I would but the entire problem would be defused by then," Jim said.

"For the love of Spock," McCoy said. "did ya read their file?"

"I did," Jim said, with a nod.

"No, ya didn't," McCoy said. "I would compare them to the Cappallans, Klingons, and the other alien species like them but these people are not divided into clans."

"Whose to say that we are going to fail?" Jim asked. "you help them, I get Spock, and your daughter has learned a lesson. Everything comes out good."

"The hard part about lessons is that you have to pay for it," McCoy said. "consequences, Jim."

"Being not trusted with historical ships?" Jim said. "It is a price I will gladly pay."

"Even with your life to get him?" McCoy asked.

"He is my noble half," Jim said, and McCoy stepped aside. "I would cross the galaxy for him."

"Jim, ya have a gift to lead others to their deaths," McCoy said. "but make sure that ya keep that big head on those broad shoulders."

"Bones," Jim said, warmly.

"It is true," McCoy said. "that head can fly away and your body will keep movin' without it."

"I feel like that is true," Jim said.

"That is true," McCoy said, then he leaned forward and bounced on his toes. "when it comes to a certain Fleet Captain by the name James Tiberius Kirk," from behind his back, the doctor took out bourbon. "now," he held up his index finger. "you, sir, need a drink from bein' worried about Spock. Doctor's orders."

* * *

McCoy and Pavel were at the hostage exchange area near a mine. It looked like a minery scenery that one would expect to see in the early 21st century rather than on a alien planet. There was a long, wide lengthy water container propped up by four support beams. There were flares around the two. Pavel had his hand on the phaser listening to the sounds around them. Rock giants were known to lurk around the place. Sound was their enemy. And it killed whatever made that sound if it laid by. The scenery reminded McCoy of the first Galaxy Quest movie where the crew of the NSEA Protector rolled a berrylium sphere to a surface pod while being chased by blue devils. He would write it off as a coincidence but the claim by the Thermians and the evidence was overwhelming. McCoy had been given his new universal translator.

"Doesn't this remind you of somethin'?" McCoy asked.

"No," Pavel said.

"It reminds me of our first away mission together," McCoy said. "ya were a ensign. We were surrounded by movin' explosive hands in the soil."

"Ah, that," Pavel said. "I remember," he fondly smiled at it. "that vas the good days."

"Yes, it was," McCoy agreed. "I heard ya goin' to be assigned to the USS Reliant."

"Thinking about it," Pavel said. "not entirely sure I should . . ."

"Pasha," McCoy said. "they will need you more than anythin' if this is a classified mission. They need ears and eyes like yours to make sure the crew are safe."

"What about you, doctor?" Pavel asked. "Are you going back to . . . being rogue. . . again?" the Russian appeared to be concerned. "Helping Clingons, Romulans, and other sorts of alien species?"

"I am a doctor," McCoy said.

"Then I am going to accept," Pavel said.

"Excellent," McCoy said. "I am proud of ya."

"So is my parents," Pavel said.

McCoy briefly closed his eyes then reopened them starting to open his mouth to say something. Anything really, but perhaps Pavel knew. How honored he was to have been working with him for all these years. Perhaps Pavel got the drift when he compared this situation to their first away mission together. He remembered the kid in engineering. As in a red shirt covered in dark shoot when he came to see him in sick bay. He remembered attending their wedding. And there was a distinctive possibility that he would not see their child.

"How is Ben?" McCoy asked, instead.

"Fine," Pavel said. "Been going through warious methods of how ve can hawe kids together."

"Sounds like fun," McCoy said.

"It is not fun," Pavel said. "and ve missed you."

"I know," McCoy said. He looked over toward Pavel with a tired, worn smile. "I was waiting for you to come around to me."

"You just got up and left vithout saying goodbye," Pavel said. "why?"

"If I had said goodbye to you then I would have never left," McCoy said.

"You are right," Pavel said. " . . . Next time, can you say goodbye? Before you go?" McCoy raised an eyebrow at the man.

"And ya tellin' me this doesn't count," McCoy said, lowering his eyebrow.

"It is a away mission," Pavel said. "you vill be back."

"I hope that is true," McCoy said.

"You vill," Pavel repeated. "You vill come back aliwe."

"All right, I will come back, alive-" McCoy felt himself grabbed into a hug by the Russian. "I promise," McCoy wrapped his hands around the man's back. "I promise, Pasha," _I will try to not die for y'all_ , McCoy added with a thought. "I never break my promises."

They were stuck that way together until the sounds of clicking and clacking of boot accessories were heard. The two men broke their hug stepping aside. McCoy looked over in the direction of the group to see Spock, in between them, in the white regulation shirt lacking the jacket like McCoy who was in the same variation. Pavel was in the red variation of the jacket as chief of security. The group appeared as though they had walked out of the silver screen from a cinematically accurate movie of westerns except for the four arms and four eyes. The lower pair of eyes were smaller than the top. They had brown hats, light blue suits with a sweater with two pockets on top of a white shirt due to the folded white collar, had mustaches, and belt with guns. Apparently the files he had read about them were limited because there were no damn pictures.

"Goodbye, Pasha," McCoy then made sure to add, "for now."

"For now," Pavel said, his hands on the doctors shoulder.

The Russian slid his hands off the doctor's shoulder.

The two groups were set apart by a good distance.

McCoy gave one last look at the young man then went in the direction of Spock who was headed his direction. It wasn't his first rodeo regarding hostage exchanges in his time as a star fleet officer. It was just a Tuesday for McCoy. Which it was, as it happened to be, a Tuesday that day. McCoy noticed how well the Vulcan had aged. It appeared that it had been ten years since their last encounter together bickering on the bridge. It had not been ten long years. They bickered everywhere in the known galaxy. One could hear southern swearing from one end of space and a curious, dumbfounded "illogical" from the other end. Spock did not wear eyeliner. Jim finally convinced the Vulcan to drop the eyeliner. He had to give credit for the kid.

When they met, Spock gently stroked the human's shoulder making him stop.

 _My apologies for bringing you into this situation, hinek,_ Spock apologized. Spock read the doctor's mind that was reading 'You pointy eared asshole!' over and over again in red text glaring on the black computer screen. Spock realized that was the doctors way of being endearing. It was a terrible way of seeing his colleague again that. Spock can attest to that. McCoy started to resume past him. Spock did a gesture that McCoy rarely thought that he would be capable of by squeezing the man's shoulder. It was a light squeeze but enough to prevent him from going further. Deep, intimate caring emotions that were not McCoy's traveled through his mind. Spock let go of the doctor's shoulder.

"Really, Spock?" was all McCoy said. "Ya could have found a more appropriate time to tell me that."

Spock lowered his eyes to his boots then back up toward the doctor, silently, with his hands locked behind his back.

"Kaiidth," Spock said to himself then went past the human going in the direction of Pavel.

"What is, is, my ass," McCoy complained to himself with a shake of his head then went in the direction of the other party.

McCoy joined the group of men who had their hands on the pistols. They were small and portable. In the distance he could see a couple of carriages that were styled enough to resemble-McCoy blinked, again. Was this a western civilization or were they playing with his mind? He looked over to see the two men in the distance vanished in a red but orange-like haze. He turned back toward the group to see one had a star on the left breast of the jacket.

"I am Sherrif Ex'ras Tac'rel," Ex'ras said, while compared to them he had a long almost wide but thin enough and smooth handled shot gun.

"Does that mean spare tackle?" McCoy said.

"Yes," Ex'ras said, with a nod.

"That is a unfortunate name," McCoy said. "now-" McCoy noticed the horses. His eyes widened at the horror. "OH FOR GODS SAKE, A CONABUS?" The horse breathed fire. "AND A HIPPOCAMPUS?" he noticed the horse had a fish tail. "if I ain't dead then I would think someone genetically engineered this planet to be greek based and failed!"

"That is a conabus," Ex'ras said.

"Oh dear lord," McCoy said. "someone is really hardcore into greek."

"And that is a hippocampus," Ex'ras said. "why does that upset you?" he raised his four eyebrows.

"I will go into the carriage, pardon me," McCoy drifted past the man ignoring the horses.

McCoy understood why they were called the Keerg.

They were speaking Greek.

It occurred to McCoy as he spelled the name backwards that they were the Greek.


	2. her

Spock appeared on the transporter padd alongside Pavel. His hair unkept. Bags under his eyes. And generally, not well rested. Pavel appeared to be concerned about the Vulcan as was Nyota who was standing in the doorway. Scotty appeared to be relieved that the Vulcan Captain had come back whole. There was a slight ion storm going on but the scotsman didn't want to worry the fleet captain. Not on his watch. Locking in Pavel and Spock's pattern was difficult to do let alone beaming them up to the Enterprise. Their patterns and atoms had formed into being forming their solid body.

"Mr Spock," Jim said. "how was your stay?"

"It is not a pleasing experience being in the wild west, captain," Spock said, stepping off the transporter padd rather clumsily. Pavel rached his arms out grabbing Spock by the shoulder steading him enough to stop the man from falling.

"Did they deprive you of rest?" Jim asked, his eye full of concern.

"Negative," Spock said. Pavel let go of the Vulcan's shoulders allowing Jim to take hold onto the Vulcan as he went past him. "their cots are rather thin yet very uncomfortable. It is comfortable for them but not for me," he looked in the direction of Nyota with a raised eyebrow as Jim was beaming back at him. "I hope my bondmate did not tear you away from your command, Captain Uhura."

"I haven't had this much fun in months," Nyota said.

"She told off star fleet command," Pavel said. "you should hawe heard her."

"Welcome home, Mr Spock," Jim said, holding his two fingers out with his right hand for Spock.

 _T'hy'la, taluhk nash-veh k'du._

It was a bright, heartwarming occasion as Jim's head fell under the Vulcan's chin. Spock stroked the man's back slowly. Spock was softly "Nam-tor la' nash-veh," muttering over and over again feeling the man's joy in their bond. Being together again made the human's heart sing. Warmth spread through their bond together letting it sing with life. Spock smelled Jim's endearing, curly brown hair. The sweet, tender scent that smelled a lot like Iowa. Spock and Jim had visited Iowa during a shore leave after the five year mission concluded. Our scene panned over to show Scotty and Nyota walking side by side.

"Say," Scotty said. "how is yer pug?"

"Tommy is still running around," Nyota said. "old but energetic."

"Aye," Scotty said. "he should have mellowed down."

"He is a Uhura," Nyota said. "we don't mellow, we get louder."

"True enough," Scotty said. "and how is your crew takin' yer personal time?"

"With grace," Nyota said. "they can take care of themselves while I am away." The camera panned over to show the bridge playing disco music and humanoid officers dancing while adrift in space around a moon on low power.

"Sounds like a fine ship," Scotty said.

"I suspect that I might find things out of place," Nyota said. "and somewhat worried that they will make a mistake."

"Yer ship is the best one in the fleet," Scotty said. "they won't make mistakes. " The humanoids stopped once they realized the ship was hurling toward a sun.

"Remember the one time the Enterprise caught a virus?" Nyota asked.

"Aye," Scotty said. The helmsmen Hondurian came to the station and started to change the course. "nasty bug it was."

Nyota laughed.

"I feel like that could happen again to my ship," Nyota said. "we haven't updated the systems this month."

"That is a reasonable expectation," Scotty said. "I haven't decided which command to accept," he looked around the corridor with his eyes. The crew relaxed as the ship turned away from the sun. "servin' on a ship that is nae the Enterprise. . . it has been a . . . lon' time comin'."

"And the Stallion doesn't count?" Nyota asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nae really," Scotty saaid. "I served on the ship for so lon'."

"You were there before me," Nyota said.

"Aye," Scotty said. "this must be how the engineers of the titanic felt about their beloved ship."

"Monty," Nyota said. "that ship sunk."

"The Enterprise will nae," Scotty said. "there is one difference between the lassies."

Nyota had a soft laugh.

"Indeed," Nyota said.

"How has Christine been?" Scotty asked.

"She is heading a medical center at a federation colony near the edge of deep space," Nyota said. "I had to convince her so she wouldn't follow after me blindly into space, I love her, but I don't want her to focus her career on me."

Scotty nodded.

"That is wise," Scotty said.

"And you?" Nyota asked.

"I meet a short lad named Keenser recently," Scotty said. "I like him."

"Is he in star fleet?" Nyota asked

"Aye," Scotty said. "he is a Lieutenant Commander."

"I am happy for you," Nyota said.

"As am I," Scotty said, as he came to a stop at his door. "Ny. . . what ya asked earlier. . .,"

"Yes?" Nyota said.

"Tryla," Scotty said. "Tryla Uhura. . . If I help you and Christine have a child. Havin' my last name would ruin her name."

"Monty," Nyota had stopped in her tracks. "that is not true."

"Tryla oo-hur-ah sounds pretty," Scotty pronounced it. "Tryla Scott? Nae, just sounds bland. Keep my last name out of it."

"It's fine," Nyota said.

"Nae," Scotty said. "just imagine the double standards she would have. If they are born a lass."

Nyota shook her head, amused, at her colleagues reservation with her arms folded.

"Haven't you considered the double standards for being the child of the great Nyota Uhura?" Nyota asked.

"It won't be like that for them," Scotty said. "nae double standard for them."

"Monty," Uhura said, one hand on the man's shoulder. "I am the daughter of Alhamisi Uhura."

"A legend," Scotty said.

"A retired legend," Uhura said. "I admit that it was annoying but it didn't interfere with my personal life."

"I will think about it," Scotty said, as she took her hand off the side of his shoulder.

Scotty entered his quarters. On the table sat beside the couch laid a bottle of bourbon with a padd laid beside it. He saw the cork was beside the glass. Scotty took his boots off relaxing his big toes then placed them along the doorway. He sat down on the couch turned in the direction of the glass. He saw a stylist installed into the side of the padd. He slid the padd onto his lap then slid the two glasses close to the edge of the table right beside him. He adjusted himself onto the couch until he was comfortable then leaned the padd forward.

 **Dear Scotty:**

 **Keep it.**

Scotty looked over toward the glass with a pleased smile then back toward the screen.

 **My treat. :)**

 **100 year old bourbon straight from the captain's cabin. Unopened until yesterday. Captain Janet Brickles property.**

 **This is for standing all the shit that my patients gave you when you visited my sick bay. And for not asking why I left the Enterprise . . . I needed that. Not after what had happened . . . I owe you, old man. Hah! I am calling you old man when I feel like the old man. I hope you see the humor in it as I do in it. I hope your next command is going to be as great as serving on the Enterprise was. I haven't thanked you so. . . consider this my thank you gift. Well, I don't know if we are going to meet each other again after this away mission. I am not sure of it. But do know, I don't mean to be away for so long. It just happens getting busy and all helping other people.**

 **Your friend, Lenny.**

Scotty smiled then put the padd onto the table then poured himself a glass.

* * *

"Doctor," Spock called after Joanna.

Joanna stopped in her tracks then turned in the direction of the Vulcan. They were alone, together in the empty hall leading to the observation deck that was different and unique compared to the constitution class. It was like a large theater screen that wasn't widened out for a gigantic full view into space. Every deck was built in with a observation deck that went along with the corridors. Joanna turned in the direction of Spock. Her eyes full of guilt and regret but mostly full of pain at the expanse of Spock's life being risked. And now her father was fixing her mistake. She wasn't going to have one part of her parents alive if she kept this up.

"Yes, Captain?" Joanna said, as the Vulcan approached her.

"I trust your overdue reunion with your father was satisfactory," Spock asked.

Joanna appeared to be bewildered.

"But . . ." Joanna was flummoxed. "ya. . . planned this to happen?"

"I did not anticipate someone to die over it," Spock said. "but yes, I did."

Joanna's face grew heartbroken.

"I killed someone," Joanna said. "I killed someone," she turned away as tears grew to the edges of her eyes. "I fucking killed someone."

"Miss McCoy," Spock said. "it is not entirely on your shoulders."

"Captain Spock," Joanna turned back toward him. "I could have always pulled a finger on ya by goin' anyway. It is on my shoulders," she closed her eyes and reopened them while they were wet. "I have to hold myself accountably for my mistake."

"I let you," Spock said.

"It was a sneeze," Joanna said. "ya would have done the same."

"No, I would have not given your case given with a certain external factor," Spock said.

"Uncle Jim wouldn't have let ya leave your quarters with that cold," Joanna said.

"Your father is a man who is capable of having people express emotions healthy," Spock said. "and logically, you were bottling them up, which is not healthy for a given human."

"Ya sound like my pa," Joanna said.

"I agree with him on that part with emotions in humans," Spock said.

"What you tried to do," Joanna said. "had some merit. . . I admit to that. . I feel better, emotionally, but. . ." she shook her head in shame. "I could have sent my father to his death."

"That is illogical," Spock said. "the doctor would not willingly go to death. He would fight death itself and survive it."

"Isn't that illogical, Captain?" Joanna asked. Her tears were dried.

"Knowing your father," Spock said. "that makes it logical."

Joanna nodded.

"He does not go easy," Joanna agreed.

"How do you feel?" Spock asked.

"Awful," Joanna said. "how about ya?"

"I am adequate," Spock said. Joanna looked back at him, kindly.

"No wonder he wa-is so fond of ya," Joanna corrected herself in mid-sentence. "I . . . I just need time alone to reconcile this."

"If that is what you wish," Spock said. "your father will arrive in three hours to the town."

"Three hours . . ." Joanna said. "I hope my mistake doesn't . . ." She shook her head. "I will be listenin' in on the bridge to hear how he is doin'," the Vulcan nodded his head. "right after I resolve my guilt," He could see a smile in her eyes that was sincere. "thanks for askin', captain."

And she walked away leaving the tall Vulcan alone with the lighting from space reflecting off him making his shadow contrasting against the light blue floor. Spock needed some time to meditate on the path of events. How his mission to help McCoy's daughter backfired. She was right about it. If she were her father's daughter, she would have gotten on the mission anyway out of sheer stubborn. Spock was familiar to that characteristic from the two five year missions in space. The lively, entertaining debates that were won half by the time by McCoy. Not that Spock would ever find himself to admit that he liked it. He turned back in the direction that he came and then, he too, left. Joanna eventually came into her quarters, her back meeting the wall, with more tears streaking down her cheeks and her hazel eyes looked green. She placed her face into her hands and wept.

* * *

Jim entered the shared, warm quarters. He could feel the bond humming with life but Spock was shielding himself from the captain. Jim sighed, feeling annoyed. Whenever Spock raised the mental shields there was usually an ample reason to do so such as feelings that he was dealing with personally. He took off his boots kicking them to the side of the doors. Jim could sense the Vulcan's presence in the quarters. Jim had made sure to bring Spock's meditation mat that was portable. And his meditation robe. Rolled up and placed into its own duffle bag. He had sensed earlier the content through the bond when while talking with Uhura about the next Enterprise anniversary.

"Are you okay, T'hy'la?" Jim asked.

Jim only heard the humming from the bedroom.

"Figures," Jim said.

Jim took his boots off then placed them against the counter in the living room. He took his jacket off then placed it into the back rest of the chair across from the counter. He made his way into the rather small bedroom where alongside it sat Spock. Jim came along to the Vulcan's side making the squeeze between the wall and Spock then sat down crisscrossing his legs. He placed one hand on the side of the Vulcan's thigh, softly. The Vulcan was slightly disturbed in the meditation as Jim sent a image of himself cuddled in the Vulcan's arms rather than meditating. He could see the Vulcan's cheeks glow a shade of green.

"You should be sleeping instead of meditating, Mr Spock," Jim said.

"So should you," Spock acknowledged, briefly slipping out of his meditation trance.

"Come on," Jim said. "I need my bondmate to be be rested enough when Star Fleet Command starts asking questions."

"Need I remind you that we are two days away from Earth," Spock said.

"I know, I know," Jim said.

"Meditation helps after a series of events like this," Spock said.

"Uh huh," Jim said, not convinced. "you would have done that a lot after our missions."

"Nothing can be compared to this one," Spock said.

"We have seen worse," Jim said.

"Hmmm," Spock said. "this was more distressing," Spock lifted one eye open glancing over toward the human. "close your eyes, my husband," Jim playfully smiled back at the Vulcan then closed his eyes. "you have not taken your time to learn meditation."

"I don't need meditation when I have books," Jim said.

"But they do not relax you," Spock said, softly.

"You got me," Jim said.

"Focus on your breathing, ashaya . ." Jim's hands were placed on his knees. Even when his eyes closed, the man looked intent and determined. "imagine what is bothering you as leaves being the colors representing the problems you are facing flowing down the river . . " Spock's deep and alluring voice brought the man down into the deep, inner recesses of his mind. Spock could visually see the colors in Jim's dynamic mind. A swirl of light blue with multi colored books floating down a stream ranging in age. It was a peaceful scenery with cool air and slight wind. The scent of flowers in the air. It was a strong, realistic scenery for the Vulcan. "now. . . let them go."

He watched the books float away slowly sinking down into the lake. Spock tore his mind away from the fleet captain's thoughts bringing himself back into his meditation. The tendrils of Jim's colors leaked into his meditation. It was a slight inconvenience. The colors eventually retreaded away as he felt the man falling. Spock slid out of his meditation then looked over to see the man laid on the floor with his hands placed on his stomach fast asleep. Spock knelt to the man's side then easily picked him up with both hands. Spock carefully laid the man onto the bed then slid his hands out from underneath the man. Jim turned onto his side as Spock slid the blanket up to the man's shoulders. Spock admired the man's serene, calm beauty from the side. He gently stroked the side of the man's shoulder gazing at his bondmate. He stopped stroking then returned to his meditation mat.

* * *

The hippocampus nuzzled the side of the conabus during the ride and it was a smooth, but rocky ride that lured the doctor to sleep in the nightly scenery. When McCoy awoke, it was breaking daylight. A ball of light was contrasting against the constellation laying above the golden strands of sand. The cactus littering the scene. The sight of bull like skeletons laying on the dirt on the side with communities of dead grass lied around them. He could see a small town up ahead. His eyebrows knit together when he poked his head out. The town's designs reminded him of the western movies. Including one site outside of Hollywood commonly used for westerns such as Bonaza and Gunsmoke as an example. He could see the towering light gray cross standing out among from the city decorations. McCoy ducked his head back out then slipped out a small chocolate bar from his pocket.

He saw a rolling light brown ball of clutter roll on through the rocky scenery.

Like a western.

He peeled the wrapping away then munched on it.

Until nothing was left of the chocolate.

Some days McCoy had made it his mission to have a bar of chocolate before he hit the hay.

It was easy to lure him to sleep when he wasn't a driver. The small bumps in the road. The dark. The cool, slightly warm temperature within the carriage. McCoy had made sure to shave before he stepped aboard the USS Stallion. Being on duty, in his opinion, was being clean shaven. Most star fleet male officers shaved. Women, however, were not recommended to shave their facial beards as it would become a permanent fixture to their face. And that's how Star Fleet uncovered 33% of the women in star fleet were transgender. It was a unique story that McCoy had read about in the history books in medicine as it was a unexpected turn. The transition period varied between the individuals but eventually the rule had smoothed out the decisions that several officers were unsure about it in general. He tucked the wrapping into his pocket. He noticed that the carriage was surrounded by two horses with saddles holding the riders and it was dumbfounding how the saddles did not burn up.

He saw a small sign that had bolded greek writing.

"Of course it is in greek," McCoy grumbled to himself.

McCoy wiped off his chocolate beard.

Chocolates, were in fact, healthy snacks.

Eventually the carriage came to a stop at a porch. McCoy opened the door to see several Keerg coughing and having a bad time with the cold. He noticed how well they were dressed for the women in the corsets and hats that were tipped slightly on their heads being worn outside. They each had varying versions of the hour glass sitting in a rocking chair in front of the building. He saw a faded red symbol alongside the wall on a metal object. Surely, it was their version of a small doctor's office. He came to the women first. He saw their noses were a shade of red. They had tired eyes. And were gasping for breath. McCoy's eyes started to widen once he saw the health hazard standing before him. They had bags under their eyes.

"Take this every one hour apart," McCoy said, handing the women the packets. "Not right after the cough drop is gone. No swallowin' or chewin' the cough drop."

"Why?" the shorter woman asked, with a cough. McCoy handed the two women small boxes with tissue.

"It is not recommended," McCoy said. "this will help ya with the nose."

"Thank you," the taller woman said.

"It is my duty," McCoy said, with a brief smile. He turned in the direction of the sheriff. "how many others are there?"

"At least thirty-two," Ex'ras said. "our physician died earlier last night before we came."

"Without a doctor?" McCoy asked. "And do you have soup?"

". . . Soup?" Ex'ras repeated.

"Stew?" McCoy asked. "Cereal?" the doctor looked over in concern toward the women in bafflement then toward the sheriff who was two inches taller than himself. "Ya got to be kiddin' me. This should have been invented by now. It's a hot bowl of nutritional pasta with vegetables inside it."

"Oh!" Ex'ras said, as he nodded his head. "We call that the Vegetable Pot."

"Vegetable Pot?" McCoy repeated.

"We have it in summer time," Ex'ras said. "hot and humid after a good day on the ranch making sure the cattle are in the right territory, out back riding, and getting a good drink from the pub."

"And the others?" McCoy asked.

"The others below have it every day," Ex'ras said. "such a shame they are too afraid to face the rock monsters," McCoy finally noticed the taller man had a small mustache that was well trimmed and curled at the sides. "Part of life. No big deal."

"That's a big deal," McCoy said. "Pardon me, ladies," McCoy turned his attention toward the woman. "y'all get better if ya get the . . ." he paused, considering the word for corsets might be different for them, staring at the women. "chest squeezers off."

"But-" the shorter woman started.

"No, buts," McCoy said. "y'all weak wearin' them. You look pretty with ya natural waist. And it's healthy," he looked toward the sheriff. The women glared back in the direction of the man. "ya should make it a rule so y'all can recover quicker from this cold. And ya need to get some beauty sleep in."

"We are civilized people, Doctor," Ex'ras said.

"Civilized people don't squeeze their waists so they can be pretty," McCoy said. "that's why y'all's women are so fragile and weak. . ." it made sense why the files wrote the women off as passive, slow walking individuals. "they might be killin' themselves slowly this way!"

"Ladies," Ex'ras said, his head turned toward the women. "do as he says."

"Y'all thank me later," McCoy went past the three people into the building.

McCoy closed the screen door behind him entering the building. He heard sneezing that ranged in sound. A hella lot of them. McCoy braced himself for the sick. He came into a circular room that had been, apparently a long time ago, a bar. The women were laid in long, thin cots holding small rags in their hands. They had glassy eyes. There were two men on a extended lawn chair like contraption covered by a blanket with burgers drooling down the side of their cheeks. Several lawn chairs was painted red while there was not a sight of blue lawn chairs were in the doctors line of sight. The arm rests were made of silver. McCoy made it into the first sick wing. He heard two pairs of coughing to his left that sounded weak and feeble.

"How many are you wearin' chest squeezers?" McCoy asked.

Several hands were raised.

"All right," McCoy said. "I am a doctor. Listen to me. Take them off," he bend his index finger at each word. "I will be right back."

McCoy made his way up the stairs.

It felt like he was in a horror suspense movie from the early 20th century.

His hand sliding on the silver rail.

McCoy had to take a double take at the floor to be sure it wasn't loose then back in the direction that he was going in. The stairs creaked beneath the man's boots, softly but loose enough to fall apart. He saw a wooden, brown support beam along the edge of the wall screwed in by light gray screws. McCoy heard loud coughing that sounded awful coming from the doorways. And a series of loud consistent sneezes. McCoy ducked his way into the first room to see four young men were not well. McCoy handed the men the cough drops. He checked their pulses which was relatively what a doctor would expect from a sick person. There were four occupied beds lining the room. Which was confusing since there told to be thirty-two patients. It occurred to McCoy that the patients were spread out through the building.

"You are-" cough "-going to-" cough "-take care-" cough "-of our snake person?" the young man, Kui'spo, said.

"Yes," McCoy said, handing Kui'spo the tissue box.

"No one can help someone like that," the bald headed Keerg said. "let alone-"cough "-help them-" cough  
"-with-" cough "-their problem."

"Anyone can be helped," McCoy said. "I am not Merlin. But where I come from. . . we can cure anythin'."

"Any-" cough "-thing?" the bald headed Keerg's eyes widened and so did Kui'po.

"Anythin'," McCoy nodded, coming over to the next Keerg.

"You-" cough "-are a-" cough "-healing-" cough "wizard," the bald headed Keerg said. "you can help her!"

"I can't help with hobbys," McCoy said, shaking his hands. "or lizardmania."

"Oooh. . ." the bald headed Keerg said.

"What-"cough. "-about-" cough "-cuts?" Kui'po asked.

"I brought a spare dermal regenerator for that," McCoy said.

"Is that-" cough "-a magic-" cough "-spell?" the bald headed Keerg said.

"Sort of," McCoy said, going to the fourth Keerg. He handed the bag of cough drops to the last man. "it recreates skin."

The Keerg took a cough drop out of the bag then ripped it open and tossed it into their mouths.

"Don't chew or swallow," McCoy warned.

"What if we do?" the fourth keerg asked.

"It might make you even more sick given that I have no idea how it effects ya internally or what the physiology of your body is internally and how different it reacts to thin's that our magic contains," McCoy explained. "or choke ya to death," McCoy said. "or it may dissolve in your stomach. I rather the last come true."

"Yes," the men said.

"Y'all should drink plenty of fluid," McCoy informed them. "it'll help ya recover."

McCoy left the room overhearing, "It seems that this wizard will do some good," between coughs. He traveled from room to room. It would take time for the colds to go away. He gave them each tissue boxes that he had made sure to take with him that were soft and medically recommended for noses. He was convinced, after hearing thirty-two people, that one of them had a problem with lizards. An outsider, an outcast, an old distant arrival that had been spared of the cold. The thought of a Keerg being a zoologist was not surprising to him. It sounded like they were for the lizard part being emphasized and the quantity of them. The patients were sounding better by the time that McCoy had finished going around.

This was a occasion that he had to celebrate with a good old drink.

Of Whiskey.

If it had been invented in this current civilization.

The women were breathing normally.

Recovery should take a few days in total to the civilization.

When McCoy exited the hospital, he saw several people in western attire surrounding the porch and the carriage was not there.

"Take him to the snake woman!" shouted a grayed, short keerg.

"I am sorry?" McCoy said. "No one told me the zoologist had the cold."

"Calm down, folks," Ex'ras said. "he came to make others better, I highly doubt this god can fix that ladies problem."

"He may heal her," one of the raven haired men said.

"She has been off their eyes," the first elder woman said.

"Heal her, heal her, heal her!" a group of women chanted. It sounded more like healer than heal her to McCoy.

"No, no, no," Ex'ras said. "go home. Now. We are not doing that. That is dangerous.

"I am a doctor," McCoy said. "if someone is hurt or ill, I have to help them, now where is the other patient?"

Ex'ras's eyes winced.

"Doctor," Ex'ras said. "You don't want to do that."

"Yes," McCoy said. "yes, I do."

"Trust me," Ex'ras said. "it will easily be the last thing you do."

"I seem to know a threat when I hear one," McCoy saaid.

"That is a warning, doctor," Ex'ras said.

A old woman stumbled out of the crowd onto the line of stairs falling right into the doctor's line of sight.

"If you rather have a long and natural life, **DO. NOT. LET. HER. OPEN. HER. EYE** S!" the elder woman warned. She had four thin arms with the first set being bigger than the lower set of arms, her fingers long but the nerves on her fingers were visible with several liver spots dotting her hand, and grayed thin eyebrows, and light brown skin. She had tattoos dotting along the side of her side wearing a corset which was likely due to the small, hourglass shape body she welded. She was in a long dress with pockets sewn here and there. She had her brown hair up in a bun that had streaks of gray.

McCoy reached his hand out for the woman and helped the elder up to her feet.

"Ma'am," McCoy said. "I need my patients to trust me, no matter who they are or who they are, they have to see what is going on."

Her eyes looked in horror at the doctor.

"Bless your soul," the old woman said, letting go of the doctor's hand. She looked at him with pity in her eyes.

"You can help the snake woman!" the crowd roared.

"If the healer can them then he can heal her!" the leader of the group cried.

"Fine," Ex'ras said. "I will take him there, happy now?"

There was a cheer from the crowd.

"Where exactly is my patient?" McCoy asked, turned toward the sheriff.

"Snake lady is in the country section outside of town," Ex'ras said. "Tyrell, Louizton, Barber, get the man a horse."

"At least you call a horse a horse-" McCoy said, hearing the four men do a melody with a whistle taking turns.

All heads turned toward the sky where a distant small figure was seen slowly gaining size. A white horse flew out of the air. The crowd dissipated around the horse making a complete circle. The horse had a gray saddle. McCoy gasped seeing the Pegasus. It was undeniably a intriguing and fascinating sight. The Pegasus walked up toward the porch with its head lowered. McCoy's breath was taken away by the pure beauty of the horse. It looked straight at his eyes pawing at the ground. McCoy's hands went around the horses face softly talking to it. Never before had he seen a horse come flying out of the the gray and blue sky. It was a first to see a _flying_ horse. In his day as a chief medical officer on the USS Officer as Lieutenant Commander, McCoy had seen many strange things. But nothing like this. McCoy was transfixed on the gleaming white body with folded wings to the side with a braided tail.

"So beautiful," McCoy said, stroking the side of the horses head. He looked over toward the men. "quite a fascinatin' piece of magic that ya have here."

"Oh," Tyrell said. "that is not close to magic."

"Hah!" Barber agreed. "Magic is more."

"Like creating a whole new breed of horse and traveling land in minutes rather than days," Louizton said. "that is magic."

McCoy smiled to himself stroking the horses forehead.

"Ya tall fella so full of bode," McCoy said. "gorgeous beauty."

McCoy looked over toward Ex'ras while leaning away from the horse.

"I am goin' to need some alcohol," McCoy said.

"I got a bottle full of it," Ex'ras said, shaking his circular container.

"Then we are good," McCoy said.

* * *

Joanna entered the bridge where she was welcomed by a light gray a gray room with light blue screens decorating the room. Pavel was staring out into the darkness of space right in the direction of the planet with his fingers placed together. Hikaru was looking over concerned in the direction of his husband. She was taken back by the contrast of colors between the new and the old bridge. A startling sight. She had seen this sight before in the Kobyashi Maru Simulation that had been designed by Spock himself. Scotty was busy getting acquainted with the transporter as the ion storm was getting more worrisome by the minute to know how up to date and reliable it was. He was performing a series of tests with the transporter that had worked only for the two beam ups and one beam up out of sheer luck. Just because they succeeded with the USS Franklin didn't mean this one was the same kind of transporter.

"I have Doctor McCoy on the line," Nyota said.

Jim and a well rested Spock looked over in the direction of Joanna then back in Nyota's direction.

"Put him up," Jim said.

Nyota pressed a few buttons and the audio came on.

"Pa, how are ya?" Joanna asked.

"Fine, pumpkin," McCoy said. The crew visibly relaxed. "and I am riding a Pegasus! A PEGASUS! I feel like Hercules."

"Having fun, doctor?" Spock asked.

"Yes!" McCoy said, with a delighted laugh.

"And your mission accomplished?" Jim asked.

"Ah, not yet," McCoy said. "I have to take care of a sick zoologist."

"Bones," Jim said.

"It is fine," McCoy said.

"That might be a trap, pa," Joanna said.

"It is highly discomforting for the captain," Spock agreed.

"I will call when ya can beam me up," McCoy said. "goin' off to the country for the last," Joanna and Nyota grew concerned looks. Spock and Jim shared a worried glance. "Apparently they went to some outsider who lives in a doomsday cabin and got them sick."

"Doctor, this may as well be a ruse to lure you out and pay you for what you did," Spock advised.

"They may have short tempers but they are not interested in killi' people who helps them recover," McCoy said. "hell, even the sheriff is reluctant for me to go after this lizard-snake loving outsider."

"I promised your daughter that everything is going to be okay," Jim said.

"Sorry, Captain's, I am not leavin' until my mission is over," McCoy said. Jim sighed, earning a wave of comfort through their bond from Spock. "and it is goin' to be okay. Just relax."

"We can beam you out at any moment," Pavel added.

"That is nice of you," McCoy said. "I am goin' to be fine!" Pavel's gut screamed back at the doctor, internally, as something didn't seem right. Something was bound to go wrong. He felt uneasy and sick at once. "Asides to the patient havin' some kind of eye infection," the doctor rolled his eyes. "Captain Spock, when I get back, I would like you to answer a question regardin' that away mission we had."

"Which one?" Spock asked.

"The one from earlier last year where ya acted out of character and were . . er.. sickingly sweet to me," McCoy said. "like the only thin' ya were speakin' was Vulcan. And it was gross because ya bonded to Jim and all. Ya kepy sayin' this one phrase to me."

"Ask and you will get an answer," Spock said

"What does 'taluhk etek du' mean?" McCoy asked. A smile grew on Nyota's face as she understood the phrase warmly looking over toward Spock and Jim.

"I will answer that upon your return," Spock said.

"Fair enough," McCoy said. "but tell me before ya return to the neutral zone patrolling."

"We will," Jim said.

"Ex'ras, get me a drink!" McCoy called. "McCoy out."

"Does riding a flyin' horse happen often with you, Captains?" Joanna asked.

Jim and Spock looked over toward the young woman who was now beside Nyota.

"No," Jim started.

"Yes," Spock said.

"No, it doesn't," Jim said.

"A zebra that had the colors of a giraffe, captain," Spock said.

"And the rhino that had the colors of a zebra," Nyota said.

"And the lemur that was golden," Pavel added.

"And the hyena's that were white," Hikaru said.

"It happens a lot to us," Jim relented.

"No wonder my pa left," Joanna shook her head. "sounds ridiculous."

"What is more ridiculous is the captain becoming a wizard," Hikaru said. "and shouting Harry Potter spells."

"They worked," Jim said.

"That is because it took pity on you, Captain," Spock said.

"And Leonard's 'patronous' was a sehlat," Hikaru said. "now that was amusing."

"My pa. . ." Joanna said, she started to laugh. "A sehlat?"

Hikaru nodded.

"Aren't they protective over their prides?" Joanna asked.

"Yes," Spock said. "very protective."

"But docile when it comes to people they trust," Hikaru said. "very soft and warm and. . ."

"Wery adorable," Pavel added.

"Mrs Uhura," Jim said, getting up from the chair. "you have the bridge. Comn us-"

"When Len calls back," Nyota said. "I will."

Jim looked over toward Joanna.

"If you like," Jim said. "after this is over, I will put in a good word for you."

"No, captain," Joanna said. "this is mine and my path alone."

"Suit yourself," Jim said, then he went into the turbo lift with Spock behind him.

Nyota gently placed a hand on the woman's arm, gently, looking up toward Joanna feeling a tinge of heartbreak for the woman. The mission was being looked into thoroughly. There had not been word on what her fate was going to be. Mr Spock would be the next logical person to inquire about the mission and the officers on the away mission who were there on the scene. Determining if someone was at fault and if it could have been avoided all together was a major point in the investigation. The doors closed to the turbo lift.

"Jo," Nyota said. "how are you feeling, sweety?"

"I don't feel good," Joanna said. "I might have lured my pa into hells mouth." Nyota turned toward the woman.

"Your father went through spidermonkeys, four armed beasts, and single handedly out smarted a piece of living technology that was black and white," Nyota said. "your father is a stubborn man and smart. He will be fine."

"Define fine," Joanna raised a thick dark eyebrow leaning against the console.

"Bruised ego," Nyota said. "complaining in general, and unhappy."

"I am probably over worrying about this," Joanna said.

"Over worrying is your father's job," Nyota said. "everyone has their old shame in star fleet."

"Do you?" Joanna asked. The camera panned over to Nyota.

"No," Nyota lied, putting on a bright face. "has not happened to me. . ." she paused, holding her hands up for self defense and shook them sheepishly. "yet."

"Can you call me when it does happen?" Joanna said.

"I will make sure to do it," Nyota said. "and you didn't have to risk your career by joining our mission."

"It is my fault," Joanna said. "I have to see this through."

Nyota nodded.

"I understand," Nyota said. "I will probably do that too when it happens to me."

"And this won't count?" Joanna asked.

"It doesn't count because I am proud of it," Nyota said.

"I am not," Joanna lowered her head.

"You will get over it," Nyota said. "my friend Janice made a mistake and it's not close to embarrassing as it was before."

"How embarrassing was it?" Joanna asked.

"Enough to run away," Nyota said, with a laugh.

"Poor woman," Joanna said.

"That's a lie and you know it," Hikaru finally spoke up. Joanna looked over in the direction of the older man raising an eyebrow. "Janice chased the Loche and Lacciev crewmembers out of her quarters by way of throwing everything she had in her quarters."

"Sounds more like she was mad at them," Joanna said.

"They were Nyota's girlfriends who backstabbed Janice," Hikaru said. "Nyota won't admit it. But it pissed her off," and he shook his finger at the direction of the woman from the helmsmen station. "and that is not old shame."

"Then what is old shame, Aru?" Nyota asked, her arms folded.

"I am ashamed of a botanist project that ate a cat," Hikaru said.

"That's guilt," Joanna said.

"I am ashamed of participating in a play that Pasha wrote and turned out to be a highly sexual Shakespearean fanfiction with Greek mythology," Hikaru said. "I have others," he eyed at the woman. "but I doubt this woman has reservations about anything at all."

"None at all," Nyota said.

"Old shame will never hit her, Jo," Hikaru said. "it is impossible for a woman like her!" he gestured toward the woman. "Everything she does is good."

A small, flattered smile grew on Nyota's face at the man's compliment.

Because it was true.

Our view followed after Spock and Jim down the hall once coming out of the turbo lift side by side. Spock could sense the concern that Jim wore inside for the doctor. Everyone was worried. One day they would be out of reasons to worry about the man because everything was going to be all right. Spock sent reassurance through their bond despite feeling uneasy about the doctor's continued stay. There were many times that McCoy had extended his stay on away missions and they were worried about him then. But not as Spock was at the moment for the doctor. It was in the middle of a violent era where bank robbers were more likely to attack, the native equivalent to Indians living on land that was away from the small but surely growing town and the mountains (some natives told him of the rock monsters and why one should not make a sound) but near pockets of rivers that flowed through the planet leading to seas. The planet's desert scenery reminded him of Vulcan. Hot, burning and a unrelenting sun. The Keerg didn't have a idea where the ocean was. It was thousands of miles away. Spock was keeping his concerns down for the doctor to a minimal level. The level was higher for Jim. Jim cared about his Bones as Spock did. He freely felt it. Most of the time their concerns were well found when they went to check up.

The two men entered their quarters.

"T'hy'la," Spock said, entering the room behind Jim. "there is only one man in the quadrant who can turn cowboys into harmless schoolboys."

Jim unclipped his jacket and slid it off onto the couch looking over toward the Vulcan, baffled.

"Cowboys, Mr Spock?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow. "You were disturbed by cowboys."

"I witnessed a hanging of a serial killer," Spock said. Jim lowered his eyebrow. "there was a better way of punishing her." Jim grew a look of understanding approaching the man.

"Oh," Jim said. "was she . . ."

"She was a black Keerg," Spock said. "and she did commit the crime. I did a mind meld with her," he briefly closed his eyes then opened them. "the mind meld was to clear the violent, negative thoughts that she had left behind."

"Mr Spock," Jim's hands landed on the Vulcan's shoulder, gently, gazing toward the man's brown eyes. "You? Of all? Vulcans?" Spock bowed his head. "Being left with her thoughts?" he cupped the side of Spock's face. ". . . Does your mind feel better from that meditation?"

"Affirmative," Spock said, his other hand traveled to the side of his own face that had Jim's hand on it and placed onto Jim's.

Jim's cheeks turned a shade of heated pink feeling the heated affection. Jim leaned forward bringing engaging into a kiss with the Vulcan. The Vulcan's green hands traveled down the man's side right onto his waist where his hips lied. They shared a passionate, engrossing kiss. Spock sat down into the chair letting the man slip off his white regulation uniform tossing it over his shoulder. They were in a large circular chair that was a wide egg like furniture. Jim moved on the man's lips to around his face placing small, ticklish kisses. His unshaven face bristling against Spock's skin. Spock purred. Jim softly smiled as his hand traveled down from the man's cheek to his bare shoulders. Spock had a hairy chest. Compared to Jim, this was infuriating. The difference between Vulcans and Humans were stark yet again when it came to chest hair.

Our camera panned over to Jim's back where we see his white shirt being slide off by green, long fingers. On Jim's back was written, in Vulcan calligraphy, wuh las'hark. Jim leaned away on top of the Vulcan and carefully placed his right hand on the left side of the Vulcan's face. Spock's legs were folded against the other side of the egg shaped seat. Spock guided Jim's fingers to the appropriate locations along his face. Jim lowered down returning to their passionate activity kissing him on the lips. Spock sucked on the top of the man's lip. Jim's free hand traveled down to the Vulcan's thigh. Jim's knees on the Vulcan's knees. Outside the egg seat, we can see that Jim was leaned forward in a kneeling like position. Spock's hand was on the small of Jim's back. There were two white shirts laid on the floor. The fell out of the chair with Jim landing on the floor first and Spock being on top.

Their mind meld was explosive, full of loving and endearing emotions for each other. They went on in their make out session. We turn away hearing moans while the socks were being slid off by the two men respectively by each other. Two long green feet stuck out from the black pair of pants. When we turned back to the two men, they had their lower extremities covered by the white shirts. Spock was by the man's side smoking a cigar that had been part of a set left on the table that was wide open with Jim cuddled beside him with one arm laid on the man's hairy chest. There was a tube of lube laid on the table.

"Ashalik t'nash-veh," Spock said. "would you prefer to do the talking regarding the phrase or should I?"

"I should do it," Jim said, kissing the Vulcan on the forehead. "T'hy'la."

He had Spock back. He had his doctor, back, too. Sort of. His week had gotten from bad to better. His best friends were back together although one was handling with issues. Spock experienced his husbands satisfaction at getting his husband back and the warmth of Jim's body against his body was soothing. Not being allowed that for what felt like a hundred years. He has had worse ideas. But this idea is what the captain had started to regretted. Putting the doctor in danger to save himself was something that he had not intended to happen. Putting him in harms way was not intended but it was a task that the doctor would complain about while happily doing it. Spock's hand was wrapped around the man's back keeping him close to his chest.

"Kup etek katau svi' hinek?" Spock inquired.

"Mmmhhh," Jim replied. "You know how Bones feels about being a third wheel."

"Ha," Spock said, placing a kiss on the man's forehead. "ashaya nash-veh du."

"I love it when you are in your Vulcan speak mode when we are cuddling," Jim said.

"Tor nash-veh," Spock said, kissing Jim's forehead. When Spock spoke in Vulcan, it sounded beautiful with his deep rich voice. Jim remembered how Spock in the beginning of their relationship w had started speaking Vulcan when they cuddled and nothing else so he enlisted Uhura to help him understand Vulcan. It was a difficult journey but one well worth it. Before Spock's first Pon Farr.

"And besides. . ." Jim looked up. "He is the definition of being happy going around helping people."

The edges of Spock's mouth started to curl up.

"K' naliveh," Spock said.

"With beer, indeed," Jim said.

"Hmm," Spock purred.

"Make sure that you take a lung repair pill for that cigar, Mr Spock," Jim said. "I need my captain in tip top shape for the next hundred years."

"Ha, kuv du yokul yarmok," Spock said.

"As you wish," Jim said, his eyes slowly closed to the cool warm chest of his Vulcan listening to his deep purr.


	3. eyes

One part about being a Star Fleet officer in deep space is having to face gigantic animals. Some of which simply terrify him. He did love animals as long as they loved him back and didn't try to kill him. The second part about facing said animals is that you got to ride them courtesy of the natives. For desert like planets, different types of four legged animals lurked like an alien version of a camel with six legs but with the same head and the two bumps dotting their back. The Pegasus was no different. McCoy's vision was slightly blurry. He nearly slipped off the horse when one the two Keerg's horse men walked by his side. That was heavy alcohol. He shook his head feeling unwell. He was light headed. All he could see was green. McCoy leaned forward then slowly started to snore on the neck of the horse.

Of course.

McCoy is the only doctor who would grab the chance in the wild west to get drunk

His eyes grew heavy.

"Sheriff," Louizton said. "that man is a alien wizard not one of us."

"He can stand it," Ex'ras said. "he'll be over it in the next hour."

"But he might be different from us, internally," Tyrell said.

"That's what you say about the negro," Ex'ras said, sending a pointed glare in the direction of Tyrell. "we are all the same."

"He is not from our world!" Louizton exclaimed.

"You shouldn't have been open with the alcohol," Tyrell said.

"He might die from it," Louizton said.

"I doubt that he is going to die," Barber said. McCoy's light, deep snores carried on. "but he might have a bad headache when he wakes up."

"And talking of a ship that sails in space," Tyrell said.

"He is drunk," Ex'ras said.

"But still," Barber said. "A space ship."

"I heard he said it's a starship," Tyrell said. "not a space ship."

"Same thing," Barber said.

"It is sailing in space," Ex'ras said. He twirled his finger in a circle. "if it was a starship then it would be made of metal stars put together bigger than our little town itself," he looked over toward the smaller human. "and space cannot exactly form a ship."

"What if it is shaped like a gun," Barber said. Ex'ras looked over in the direction of Barber.

"That is our kind of ship," Ex'ra said, with a smirk. They suddenly stopped. "Good lord," there was the sound of rampant stampede of horses headed their way. "is it that season again?" he looked toward Barber.

"Afraid so," Barber said.

"I hate bandits," Louizton said, taking out a small pistol.

"Time really flies here," Ex'ras said.

Tyrell slapped the thigh of the Pegasus. Our scene followed the horse gallop away. McCoy was perfectly snoring away. He was dreaming of being a cowboy, living along the mountains, and chasing away hungry meat eating bunnies for attempting to eat his breakfast. It ended with him being devoured alive by the rabbits. McCoy's eyes lazily opened feeling wind brushing against his face. He had a headache. He also felt sick. Everything was still blurry. He reached his hand out to feel cold, sizzling air. He shuddered. He heard the flap of wings. He raised his head rubbing his eyes. He had a bad headache. He saw massive white feathers going up and down shimmering in his view. He looked down to see fields of sand. He was drunk. He lowered his head and returned sleep. Eventually the wind died and the shoulders stopped moving. Being on top of the horse felt like he was on top of the world. He raised himself up with a groan feeling a bit better than he was when he woke up earlier. McCoy started to slip off when four hands caught him.

"Morning, sleepy head," Barber said.

McCoy yawned.

"How lon' I been out?" McCoy asked.

"Can't determine but at least you are not dead," Barber said, lowering him down to his feet.

McCoy fell down to the ground lacking balance and dirt covered his white jacket including the matching white pants. He felt awful. Part of his brain was half asleep and the other half was awake. He had a soft, low groan. Tyrell and Barber helped the man back up to his feet. McCoy yawned then his eyes adjusted to the scenery. McCoy could see the shape of a cave up ahead that looked like a abandoned minery but it was different. There were several tipped over crates left on the ground. They were covered in cobwebs and some of them had been chipped away by the wrath of time. There was a gray wheelbarrow left discarded against the entrance.

"I never heard a series of snores come from a man his size," Ex'ras said.

"Hey!" McCoy snapped. "Mind your manners!"

"Sorry," Ex'ras apologized.

"And don't insult people," McCoy said, now out of their arms. "because all that y'all get is deaths and needless destruction," his eyes were drilling a hole into the man's head. His baby blue eyes full of rage and anger. "That comes with war," he poked at the man's chest for emphasis. "When ya piss off the wron' person!"

"Where do you come from?" Ex'ras raised his eyebrows.

"A world like this," McCoy said. "only better."

"If it is so good why are you here?" Ex'ras asked.

"We are explorers," McCoy said.

"Uh huh," Tyrell said.

"Where is the patient?" McCoy asked.

"Her name is Dusa,"Ex'ras said. "Been here for the past fifty years. In the cave." He looked warily into the cave then back in the direction of the doctor.

"Feels like a hundred years to us," Barber said.

"We are going to run dry if we can get anymore metal out of that mine," Tyrell said.

"What about the-" McCoy started to say.

"Are you kidding me?" Ex'ras asked. "That is overrun in blue devils."

"But it looks like a mine," McCoy said.

"It used to be until the arrival of the pesky blue devils," Ex'ras said. "they came before I was born. Used to be the former source of mining. . ." he sighed. "sadly," he shook his head. "what is in the past is the past."

McCoy noticed the scenery was barren and made of rocks.

He turned toward the sheriff.

"Y'all should get out of here," McCoy said. "there might be a rock monster."

"Doctor, you underestimate us," Barber said. "we don't make sounds."

"Hearts do," McCoy reminded them.

"We have biologically adapted to that," Barber said. "we can still breath but. . . not make a sound."

"If ya say so," McCoy said.

"But don't have your eyes open around her," Louizton said. "if you value your own life."

"Funny," McCoy said. "I was told that she has to have her eyes closed."

"That is a old myth that the men carry," Louizton said. "you have to keep your eyes closed."

Ex'ras punched the man at the shoulder earning a high pitched yelp.

"Asshole, that is not true," Ex'ras said. "stop spreading fake news."

"That is not fake," Barber said.

"The hell it is," Ex'ras said.

"Exactly the point I was making," McCoy said, then he handed Ex'ras the communicator. Barber had his arms folded as McCoy's point was slowly sinking in. "if what I suspect is true. . ." he looked at the men warily. "ya might want to give my ship a call if I do not come back. I will be in and then out."

Ex'ras looked down toward the communicator looking at it, baffled.

"Your companions riding the Enterprise," Tyrell said.

"It's the Stallion," McCoy said.

"Okay, the Stallion," Tyrell said. "that's a stupid name for a space ship."

Barber and Ex'ras punched Tyrell at the shoulders as McCoy headed in the direction of the mouth of the cave. Tyrell fell down cowering rubbing his shoulders. We can see his attire is splotched in stains. Some of the men had fabric wrapped around specific parts of their arms and their hands. There was a small cut on the left temple of Ex'ras with dirty attire. Louizton stroked the forehead of the flying horse softly rewarding the beast by complimenting. The doctor became further and further away from the small group closer and closer to the mouth of the cave.

The doctor mocked to himself, "it's a stupid name," the doctor rolled an eye. "Stupid ass. It's named after the goddamn westerns."

He looked over his shoulder to see the humanoid like beings standing a great distance away. He turned away then resumed his pace down the mine. He came into the mouth of the mine. He saw installments into the wall partially covered once used to house glass that once shined brightly with electricity flowing through. He heard the slow, but steady drip drops of water landing to the floor. He saw frozen men with guns, covered in head to toe in various gray layers while still as statues, some of whom were towing boxes of what appeared to be gold. The doctor whistled. That was impressive. The doctor pat the dirt off his uniform. McCoy felt like he was walking in to meet death. It was uncomfortable. And frightening. Because when he usually did this, he was usually in the operating room. McCoy went down the path searching for the trail of men frozen in spot. Women are among them. He felt pity for the families who had lost their loved ones thanks to the-wait, it was Medusa. They had a alien version of Medusa resting in a mine.

No wonder he had a bad feeling about the mission.

McCoy reviewed his life.

The happiness in it.

The joy in it.

McCoy thought of all the people he had touched throughout his life as montage. Spock and Jim kept coming up. Holding his little girl in his arms as a newborn. Grabbing his index finger and not letting go. Cooying at his little girl. His mother, Eleanor, babysitting the little girl while he worked at the clinic and his wife worked as a lawyer. He smiled thinking of what Joanna's future could be like. She will be fine. He walked forward. Going to Las Vegas with TJ as a child. Meeting Jim and Spock, well, that could be the best time in his life. Slowly developing a liking to them, both platonically and romantically, but it wouldn't last. They would outlive him. He would go first when it came to mortality. He would try saving them too much to save his own ass. He would take more risks he would. Probably go over his morals just to save them. But after Jocelyn and the xenopolycythemia, it resulted in McCoy deciding against romantically pursing a relationship with them. He would be their third wheel. So he resigned himself to watching them be happy together and that was enough for him. A thought occurred to McCoy. A McCoy never went to save a supernatural being.

That was a first.

Dying by the supernatural being was a first.

McCoy was a doctor, and he was not afraid.

He resumed his trek deeper and deeper until all there was going was flames.

Napalm, fire that would never die.

He saw a few child like statues, but not entirely human lacking the four arms, lingering around the chamber.

Far enough from the exit, McCoy considered going back and going against his word.

That was not recommended.

Someone needed help.

His help to be exact.

"Miss Dusa!" McCoy called. "I am Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy. Your friends sent me to see you."

He heard a slithering sound in the tunnel ahead.

"No one can help me," Dusa said. It sounded like someone heavily depressed and disillusioned from society. It sounded like this woman needed his help. He heard the sound of hissing that was getting louder and louder.

"You are injured," McCoy guessed.

"If I let you see me then you shall die," Dusa said.

"I accepted that risk as soon as I stepped into this mine," McCoy said. "I made my amends. Show yourself."

"If you prefer that," Dusa said. She slithered her way into the wide cavern with eyes closed towering over McCoy. She had long black hair that was made of snakes. She had fine, well kept eyebrows. She had the lower body of a snake reminding the doctor of a naga. She had dark skin, she had arm bands, and a belt with arrows. She held a bow in her other hand but she had a long, wide open cut around her left shoulder that appeared to be infected and needed attention immediately.

"Shoulder injury," McCoy said, once he scanned her. He wore a small smile. "you need to get a new place, ma'am."

"This is the best place to be," Dusa said.

"Over dyin'," McCoy said. "that is the best scenario actually."

"I did not always use to be this way," she lowered herself down to his level. "I was . . ."

"Mutated another alien species who hated you so much for being beautiful that they did not allow anyone to appreciate it, ever," McCoy said. "but you are appreciated." McCoy knelt down onto a rock. "frankly, you look good for a woman your age. And you should find a better place that is not littered in dead people. Does damage with your morale. You are just a ordinary person like me but mutated."

". . . How do you know that?" Dusa asked.

"Because I happen to know greek mythology," McCoy said.

"Greek?" Dusa asked.

"That's what we call the people who live on this planet," McCoy said. "we had people like them a lon', lon' time ago that built the buildin' blocks to our civilization and inspired some good flicks."

"I understand," Dusa said.

He opened the knapsack bringing her forth toward him using her hand.

"But they call themselves the Keerg," McCoy said. "which I feel like one of them was bein' a little shit about their civilization's name."

Dusa laughed.

"Does that happen often?" Dusa asked.

"Not often," McCoy said. "ya gotta know your way around this place if you been here for the past century," Dusa frowned at the humans comment. "now don't give me an earthquake excuse because ya can slither out into the open with your eyes closed and fly over large cracks because of how fast ya goin'."

"That is . . . truly bazaar," Dusa said.

"Not really," McCoy said. "ya just need help. That is all."

He turned on the dermal regenerator once injecting a skin infection vaccine into the side of her neck earning a whine. "Sorry," the doctor apologized. He slowly started the process for putting the skin together. He kept the woman steady together as the skin knitted together covering the injury. The skin infection slowly dissipated before the doctor's eyes. He finished the repair work then took out a small piece of gauze. The repairwork was refresh but it needed to be covered in case it opened like any old wound. It would take an hour, for her by guesswork, for it to become solid and not be squiggly. Humans needed more than a hour to recover from being stabbed or injured in any near fatal way. The doctor relaxed once he got to the end.

"Ya look pretty, Dusa," McCoy said. He released his grip on her shoulder reaching his hands away from her, slowly putting the medical equipment away, and he stood up watching a smile appear on her dark face. She had her face covered in freckles. He closed the knapsack feeling relaxed. He didn't need to worry at all. Suddenly there was a loud, startling sound. Her eyes snapped open. Her face became covered in horror seeing the man as she slinked away covering her mouth.

"I am sorry," Dusa said.

From the Stallion, Joanna knew something was wrong.

* * *

The air was unsettled on the bridge as Nyota tapped on the communication console.

"Stallion here," Nyota said, as Scotty entered. He came to her side. "Yes, this is Doctor McCoy's colleague."

"I am sorry for your loss ma'am," Ex'ras said. "but he has been seen by Dusa."

"What do you mean?" Nyota asked, she tracked the location of the communicator with one hand on the device in her ear. "I am sorry, I didn't catch that."

"He is a statue," Ex'ras said.

Nyota froze as her face looked like she aged ten years.

"Ny?" Scotty asked. "What is wron'?" he placed a hand on her shoulder.

Pavel came to Scotty's side as did Hikaru.

"Thank you," Nyota said. "we will take care of that. Please destroy the communicator."

Scotty's face turned into realization as it slowly dawned onto the men that something had gone terribly wrong.

"Ny?" Hikaru said, coming onto her other side.

"He is gone," Nyota said. "they say. . ." she couldn't say the words. "he. . ." she felt sick. "is stone." She could feel her lunch from hours ago preparing to come up. She started to fall down but only into the man's arms. Hikaru took her to the installed bathroom that was part of the bridge, mandatory addition, while Scotty looked over to the station to see the coordinates of where the communicator was.

"Let's make sure," Scotty said.

"Ve hawe to get keptains," Pavel said.

"Pasha," Scotty said. "they will make it worse if they see who made it happen."

"All right," Pavel said.

The two men went through the doors.

* * *

When Jim opened his eyes and he saw Spock, his day was made. They were perfectly happily and optimistic of the doctors safe return. "Captain Kirk, please come to the conference room," was requested by Hikaru. His voice was calm and steady, but also like gravy. Likeable. That was Jim's first warning something was wrong. It wasn't a chipper, happy voice. It was a 'I have news you won't like' kind of voice. He had known Hikaru long enough to know every types of voices the man had for different occasions. Spock and Jim shared a puzzled glance with each other silently communicating through their bond what could be going on.

 _The doctor is likely holding a surprise,_ Spock recommended.

 _You know Bones would do that,_ Jim snickered.

 _As would you, husband,_ Spock said, holding his two fingers out.

But it wouldn't be full of Bones type of alcohol, Jim replied returning the gesture with a loving expression at his bondmate. Spock has, and always shall be, his world. A wave of loving affection came from Jim to Spock. He put on his yellow jacket. Spock was in the Vulcan civilian uniform that read "nam-tor kum-tor nash-veh" in Vulcan calligraphy. That meant 'I am taken'. Spock lowered his hand then put it behind his back. The two men walked side by side out of the room.

Then the bondmates went down the hall. Their shoulders touching as Jim whistled to himself, glowing, while in a better mood. The two men eventually entered the conference room with Spock. Hikaru and Pavel were talking quietly. They stopped talking looking over in the direction of the two men. Nyota was looking over in the direction of Joanna who was looking down in the direction of her hands. . There was a depressed air about the room as all eyes went on to him. Scotty was looking down on a padd with a glass of bourbon that had been untouched.

"What is it?" Jim asked.

"He is dead, captain," Hikaru said.

"Nae, nae, nae," Scotty protested. "just because he is encased doesn't mean-"

"What happened can't be undone," Hikaru said. "it is impossible to undo."

"Mr Scott, Mr Sulu," Their eyes aimed in Jim's direction. "tell me the problem."

"McCoy has been turned into stone," Nyota said. "from what I was able to gather," Jim sat down into the chair as his face slowly turned a shade of white. "the only reasonable explanation is that he was helping whoever turn him into stone when something happened that alarmed them. He did not appear to be alarmed or hurt," she glanced over toward Scotty. "If he were encased then he would have a pulse."

"Under layers of rock would do the trick," Scotty said. "did ya nae see how thick it was?"

"Yes," Hikaru said. "we all did."

"He is nae that thick," Scotty said.

"Are there others?" Jim spoke up.

"Yes," Pavel said.

"We are going to help them," Jim said. "we are going to help Bones patient, first, and then we will help every single person stuck the way they are," he cleared his throat. "after all, we came here to help."

Joanna cleared her throat.

"Let me help," Joanna said. "I am a doctor. . ." she had a shaky sigh.

"No," Jim said. "you are suspended."

"I am on a stolen ship, captain," Joanna said. "I have an idea how to help them."

"Does this involve surgery?" Jim asked.

"He didn't pack surgery tools," Joanna said. "I am gonna have those eyes covered the shit out of them."

"How sure are you that eyes are responsible?" Spock asked.

"Medusa," Scotty said. "they got a immortal Medusa there. I saw her vanishin' away."

Jim's hands squeezed each other.

"And the other statues?" Jim asked. "have they been beamed up?"

"Nae," Scotty said. "nae with Len. We are nae movin' him."

"The remains of the Pompeii incident were also moved and they could not be brought back," Spock said. "you have suggested that the doctors body is not in the same manner of the people of Pompeii as he is under several layers of rock, Mr Scott."

"I did," Scotty said. "but I dae nae want . . ." he looked over toward Jim. "for the doctor tae become a test subject."

"Neither do we, Mr Scott," Jim said. "but we will find a way to bring them all back after the eye surgery," he looked over toward the young woman. "Miss McCoy, I trust your idea will need a hand?"

"I won't need help," Joanna said. "they will be heavily sedated."

* * *

McCoy collasped feeling cold and covered in sweat. He felt someones arms wrapped around him and weeping. It was distant but the sounds were familiar. His vision was a blur. He was carried to a bed. He, painfully, turned on to his side feeling the soft, throbbing headache. He fell deeper and deeper into sleep. He slid down their arms. It was a woman's voice and there was also shouting. He saw the color hazel and brown short hair. It felt like he had been cold for a long, long time. His legs ached. Like he had been standing for years. He heard noises. The sound of a biobed. His body screaming in pain from moving. Internally, it was probably for the best that he be put into sedation. His eyes felt like they were made of rock. Gradually, his eyes became able to be moved. Affection coming from out of no where right in his general being. It felt like Spock for some reason.

His body temperature was slowly starting to rise again.

His fingers regained feeling.

It was easy to breath.

He could feel his legs when his eyes started to open to see a dark gray wall above him.

There were arms laid on top of him.

Keeping him firmly in place. He turned his head, smoothly, in both directions to see that he was pinned by Jim and Spock. Respectively. Their legs were entangled with his legs. Jim's leg was hooked around McCoy's right leg. Spock's leg was hooked into McCoy's left leg. The hairy, but green chest equally warm and cool at once. A alluring factor that was luring McCoy back to sleep. His eyes felt heavy with painkillers for some other part of his body. McCoy could not hear in his left ear. He could see that they were planet side. It also became apparent that they were not in a hospital.

He could not feel his toes.

He couldn't feel feel his toes.

"It means we cherish you," Spock sounded older coming from alongside the doctor.

McCoy realized the Vulcan had his arm wrapped around his arm.

He tried to speak but there was no voice.

"You are a very vivid dreamer, doctor," Spock said. "your voice box will come back. . . in due time."

The doctor scowled.

"Jim's idea, not mine," Spock said. "and we have only been doing this to keep you from rolling out of your bed."

Now, that did, sound like something that he would do.

"Joanna will be making her visit tomorrow morning," Spock said. McCoy stared into the man's soul. "It has been ten years."

It looked like his heart was just broken.

"Doctor, don't cry, she has made accomplishments while awaiting your return," Spock said.

His baby blue eyes were watering up.

"Ssssh," Spock said. A tear rolled down the doctor's cheek. Spock gently streaked it off. "Leonard, you are on extended visitors pass," he soothingly told the human. "When I open my eyes and I see you, alive, and well, that makes me happy for Jim. . . He has not been himself since your absence . . . I have been making sure that he does not make a mistake that he will come to regret even some moral lines," the Vulcan cleared his throat. "The Enterprise is going on a training cruise next year. . . would you like to be a part of it?"

McCoy rolled an eye.

"Jim will ask you, again, later, when you are capable of speaking," Spock said. "it is best you know."

The doctor groaned.

"You need rest, Leonard," Spock advised.

McCoy glared in the Vulcan's direction.

"I will nerve pinch you if you do not allow your body to heal," Spock said. "what Mr Scotty and your daughter used to reanimate you is taking considerable time for the other parts of your body."

McCoy looked at Spock in concern.

"Your friend cannot see but she has been living peacefully among the people of Keerg," Spock said. "the others who have been her victims are readjusting to their new life. That is not different in the slightest, apparently," A smile grew on the human's face. "you must be awake for the others this morning. They have been waiting to see you again."

McCoy nodded, not in pain, not feeling the slightest of pain.

"Rest, Leonard," Spock said.

And then he was taken under feeling like all the problems in the world were solved as he heard the deep, beautiful purring of the Vulcan.

Not bad.

Not bad at all.

 **The End.**


End file.
